Last Thursday I worked for 12 hours then went out for beer, burritos, and beats via the Other Side Cafe and Phoenix Landing. Although I felt like a grade-C celebrity while bopping around drunk at one AM on a weeknight, Friday morning was a full-on nightmare hallucination of fatigue. Things only got worse after lunch. By the time I got home, at nine pm, by the way, I felt thoroughly wrung-out, and spent the evening watching Blow-Up and wondering if everyone was skinny in the 60s or if movies just make it seem that way.
Since i was so tired, you might think I’d have gotten a sweet night of sleep, but lo, it was not to be! I had to be to work again at 7am, and it was one of those things where GOD HELP YOU if you oversleep, because the world would probably just fucking end. So I spent all night having lucid dreams of incorrectly patching video signal and wrestling with nameless databases until my alarm went off at six-fifteen.
It should go without saying that I was pretty much a waste for the entire afternoon and evening. Even when I woke up on Sunday morning, it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed, shove some eggs into my face, and brush my teeth before passing out again. And I am not a napper.
So, to recap, I went out on Thursday and it destroyed my world for the majority of the weekend.
Coming soon: pictures of my adventures with Napa Cabbage and “Fun with Balloons: pictures of a laser tag birthday party with no actual pictures of laser tag”